City Lights
by Lady Anarchy
Summary: [ONE SHOT] Trunks leaned against the door frame, halfnaked, short hair tussled from tossing and turning. He held one of Kaiya’s blankets in his hand–the pink one she loved so much.


**Standard Disclaimer: Trunks and Pan do not belong to me, the plot and Kaiya Briefs do.**

_Rated T for mature reading. Trust me, kids, you just won't like it. It's like asparagus_**  
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** City Lights**

Pan ran the tips of her fingers gently over the thin strands of dark hair that covered the small head which rested against her shoulder. Satan City was quiet beneath her feet, the street lights dim, the pavement littered with the odd homeless person or stray cat. A light breeze blew through her hair and over the balcony. The infant in her arms stirred, fisting the fabric of her robe in one tiny hand. Pan glanced down, placed a kiss against the warm crown of her baby's head, and turned around to rest her hips against the railing.

She still ached, even three months after the labor and delivery. It had been difficult, to sum it up in one word. Nearly impossible, from what Pan remembered of it. Pain, the threat of losing her child, darkness, silence, and finally the screams of her newborn daughter. Labor didn't get much worse than her's, Pan thought. And now, three months later, her precious baby was sick.

Just a fever, Trunks had told her, nothing to worry about. She wished she didn't worry, that she could fall asleep with the sound of her daughter fussing over the baby monitor, uncomfortable and sweaty, then cold. She'd cry, and Trunks would say "Wait and see, baby, cuddling her is only going to make it worse."

But it didn't. Kaiya Briefs quieted the moment Pan lifted her into her arms, fussing only momentarily to let her mother know how horrible she felt. Pan had carried her onto the balcony of their condo tonight, hoping the warm night air might soothe the child better than the chilly air conditioning inside.

It seemed to work, but Kaiya didn't sleep, merely nuzzled her mother's neck, indulging in the familiar scent and feel. Pan ran her fingers gently up the infant's back, attempting to soothe away the uncomfortable heat. She closed her eyes, willing away the tiredness that came with 4 a.m. Kaiya stirred, made a noise, and Pan began to sing.

Her voice wasn't great, but she could carry a tune, her daughter seemed to find it particularly soothing. She relaxed instantly, made a noise of content. A mother's voice was a mother's voice, no matter what it sounded like. She continued with the same tune, caressing Kaiya's damp neck. She rocked slowly, side to side, closing her tired eyes and hoping the infant would fall asleep soon.

Pan opened her eyes when the balcony door slid open. Trunks leaned against the door frame, half-naked, short hair tussled from tossing and turning. He held one of Kaiya's blankets in his hand–the pink one she loved so much. She was pretty sure he was glaring at her. Pan lowered her voice to a murmur and brought her lips to Kaiya's ear. The infant snuggled closer to her mother.

"She'll never fall asleep without you if you keep this up," Trunks said quietly, still watching from the doorway. Pan shot him a glance that said _I really don't care_. She ran her fingers gently up and down her baby's back, held one hand out to Trunks when she shivered once. Instead of handing her the blanket, Trunks stepped forward and put his hands around Kaiya's torso. She made a noise of protest as Trunks lifted her away from her mother, but she quieted the moment she laid eyes on her father.

Trunks tucked the blanket around Kaiya and supported her small form with one hand. Pan reveled in the way he dwarfed the already small infant. They stared at each other for a moment, neither saying a word. Then Trunks reached out with his free hand, slid his warm palm under the shoulder of her bathrobe. She was unable to stifle a moan as his fingers probed the knotted muscles in her shoulders and neck. The feeling made her weak in the knees.

"You're exhausted," he said, and Pan caught the hint of irritation in his voice. "Go to bed." He wasn't asking.

Pan forced herself to open her eyes as his fingers worked their magic against the nape of her neck. "I can't sleep with her sick, Trunks," she managed to say, but her voice was weak and tired. She _could_ sleep, she just didn't want to. And Trunks knew it.

He sighed. "You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep this up. It's only a fever, Pan, she'll be fine in a few days. You're getting worked up over nothing."

"I'm not _worked up_." She was all but pouting.

Trunks smiled, leaned in and kissed her lips softly. Her brought his fingers up to caress her cheek, run his thumb over the dark circles under eyes so brown they were almost black. "I'm not going to stand here and pretend I know what it was like to give birth to Kaiya. I know it was painful, and I know I almost lost the both of you," he swallowed hard. "But she's strong, Pan, and so are you, but you're still a bit weak from the labour. If you don't get some rest you're going to end up back in the hospital."

His hand dropped to her flattened stomach. He could feel the sharp outline of her ribs, stifled his anger, and caressed the place where her large belly and his daughter once were. Kaiya fidgeted and expressed her discomfort with a distressed cry. Trunks turned his attention on his daughter and untucked a corner of the blanket from around her. He rocked slowly from side to side until she quieted.

He looked back at his wife, who was leaning against the railing of the balcony, barely able to stand. Enough was enough. She was going back to bed whether she liked it or not. But for all the anger that burned within him, he couldn't shout at her, couldn't even manage to speak sternly. "Come back to bed," he said quietly, tugging on the knot of her bathrobe. She didn't object and allowed him to lead her inside, a steadying hand on the small of her back.

Trunks shut and locked the door with one hand and watched carefully as Pan shed her bathrobe, only rocking unsteadily once before crawling into bed. She didn't lie down like he had hoped, but sat back against the headboard, staring at him. With a sigh Trunks approached the bed and slid under the covers, propping himself up next to Pan. He placed a kiss on the crown of Kaiya's head as Pan slid up next to him.

She ran the back of her hand over Kaiya's forehead, smiled as the infant looked at her with sad eyes. "Go to sleep, baby," she murmured, placing a kiss near her temple and caressing the thin spattering of hair until the baby closed her eyes.

"You go to sleep too," Trunks whispered, slanting a look at her. Pan gave him a tired, half-smile, before she leaned over to kiss him. It was slow and lazy, and just sexy enough to make him stir.

"I love you," she murmured, before shifting her lips to Kaiya's head. "And I love you," she said, checking to see if her daughter's eyes remained closed.

"We know," Trunks said, reaching over and pulling Pan back for another kiss, this one chaste. "Now get some sleep."

Smiling at him, Pan lay down and closed her eyes, one hand sliding over Trunks' abdomen; the intimate contact she always seemed to need to go to sleep. It seemed his daughter needed the same thing.

Trunks smiled, and as he lay awake in bed, comforting his feverish child, he watched the city lights blink off one by one, and the sun begin to rise in a red line on the horizon.

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_And my softer side makes an appearance again. I love this piece, it just tickles me pink. Update on _Coffee & Cigarettes_ coming within the next 15 years. I promise._


End file.
